


I Claim You

by onepageatatime715



Category: MAAS Sarah J. - Works, Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Crown of Midnight, F/M, First Time, Heir of Fire, Queen Of Shadows, Romance, Sarah J Maas, Sex, Smut, Throne of Glass, empire of storms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 13:50:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9494282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onepageatatime715/pseuds/onepageatatime715
Summary: Set during Queen of Shadows. What might have happened the night of Lorcan’s attack if Rowan didn’t have exceptional self-restraint.All characters belong to Sarah J. Maas.





	

“Aelin,” he breathed. Not a reprimand or warning, but … a plea. It sounded like a plea. He lowered his head to her exposed neck and hovered a hair’s breadth away.

She arched her neck farther, a silent invitation.

Rowan let out a soft groan and graze his teeth against her skin.

One bite, one movement, was all it would take for him to rip out her throat.

His elongated canines slid along her flesh – gently, precisely. She clenched the sheets to keep from running her fingers down his bare back and drawing him closer.

He braced one hand beside her head, his fingers twining in her hair.

“No one else,” she whispered. “I would never allow anyone else at my throat.” Showing him was the only way he’d understand that trust, in a manner that only the predatory, Fae said of him would comprehend. “No one else,” she said again.

He let out a low groan, answer and confirmation and request, and the rumble echoed inside her. Carefully, he closed his teeth over the spot where her lifeblood thrummed and pounded, his breath hot on her skin.

She shut her eyes, every sense narrowing on that sensation, on the teeth and mouth at her throat, on the powerful body trembling with restraint above hers. His tongue flicked against her skin.

She made a small noise that might have been a moan, or a word, or his name. He shuddered and pulled back, the cool air kissing her neck. Wildness – pure wildness sparked in those eyes.

Then he thoroughly, brazenly surveyed her body, his nostrils flaring delicately as he scented exactly what she wanted.

Her breathing turned ragged as he dragged his stare to hers – hungry, feral, unyielding.

“Not yet,” he said roughly, his own breathing uneven. “Not now.”

“Why?” It was an effort to remember speech with him looking at her like that. Like he might eat her alive. Heat pounded through her core.

“I want to take my time with you – to learn… every inch of you. And this apartment has very, very thin walls. I don’t want to have an audience,” he added as he leaned down again, brushing his mouth over the cut at the base of her throat, “when I make you moan, Aelin.”

She wondered how long his resolve to wait would last if she lifted her face to claim his mouth with her own, if she ran her fingers down the groove of his spine –

Rowan growled, low and utterly feral, and Aelin realized that her hands had moved of their own accord, tracing his spine.

Grinning wickedly, Aelin did it again, leaning up to tease him with a whisper of a kiss as she did.

Rowan swore.

Then he was out of the bed, striding across the room so quickly Aelin didn’t have time to react, though her body cried out at the loss of contact.

Rowan opened the door and snarled, “Out!”

Aedion, who had presumably been lounging in the living room, sputtered incoherently, but whatever he scented on the Fae Prince – Aelin flushed to think what her cousin scented – sent him fleeing from the warehouse apartment.

Aelin propped herself up on her elbows, watching as Rowan slammed the door shut and prowled back to the bed his eyes roving over her body hungrily, his features utterly Fae.

“He’s just going to go up to the roof, you know,” Aelin smirked.

Rowan growled as he crawled back onto the bed, his sheer weight forcing her back down under him as his eyes ravished her body.

“I don’t give a damn where he goes, so long as it’s far enough away to give us some privacy,” Rowan growled.

Aelin shuddered at the promise in his words, then arched up to press her lips to his, losing herself in the intensity of the kiss as her bore down upon her. The heat of the kiss was enough to melt her, but his hands – Wyrd help her, his hands – lit her on fire as they roamed underneath her thin nightshirt, tracing patterns on her bare skin.

Rowan found her breast, his fingers tracing her perked nipple with a practiced patience, sending shivers through Aelin's body as he explored her breast, her skin. Aelin whimpered at the pleasure he elicited from her body. 

Rowan growled in satisfaction at the sound, and the sound reverberated through Aelin’s core, her body begging for more as she pressed herself against the Fae Prince, her breasts pressing themselves against his bare chest. 

“Please,” Aelin gasped.

Rowan smiled, a look of pure male Fae satisfaction glimmering across his features.

“Patience, Fireheart,”” he murmured, his voice rough.

He slipped Aelin’s nightshirt over her head, brazenly surveying her bare body underneath him before he lowered his mouth – his eyes fixed on Aelin’s the entire time – to suck on her breast.

Aelin gasped at the contact, at the pleasure she found as his tongue flicked against her nipple. Rowan growled in satisfaction as the sound, nipping at her breasts as his hands roamed ever lower.

Rowan growled again as his hands found the wetness of Aelin’s arousal waiting for him between her legs. Aelin whimpered, a plea for him to ravish her, as the heat in her core built. And as his hands found that sensitive spot, his teeth still teasing her erect nipples, Aelin gasped at the pleasure that rocked through her. She writhed against him, unable to control her movements as her body begged him for more - more kisses, more touches - more of anything her would give her. 

Rowan masterfully teased her, working her to a level of pleasure she’d never experienced before, until she was begging him for more, always more, with her body and her words.

"Please," Aelin whimpered. Rowan's grin was nothing short of wild as he regarded her, his nostrils flaring as the scent of her arousal before more and more pronounced. 

Then he lowered his mouth to that spot between her legs, and the fire in Aelin’s core exploded as she burned through her climax, crying Rowan's name. His tongue worked against that sensitive spot, pleasuring her in ways she hand't known possible, as his hands gripped her thighs. 

Rowan smiled up at her from between her legs, a look of pure male satisfaction on her face as he rose back up to kiss her. And at last, Aelin’s hands found the towel, still slung low across his hips, and tugged at it, freeing his great length.

Rowan snarled as Aelin wrapped her hands around the smooth leather of his cock, teasing him with deft hands and a sly smile. She ran her hands up and down her, purring in satisfaction as her groaned in pleasure, her arms quivering as he held himself above her, his eyes fixed on her hands around his cock.

His mouth crashed into hers as he moaned, his body pressing against hers.

“Fireheart,” he groaned. His cock was hard in her hand, and Aelin answered his unspoken question by leading him to her entrance.

Rowan thrust into her without hesitation, his grin feral as his length filled her. Aelin grinned back, equally feral, as she pressed herself against him, forcing him deeper inside her, reveling in the feel of him inside her at last.

Rowan snarled in response, pounding into her. Aelin clung to him, her nails ripping delicate cuts into his back. Rowan clung to the sheets around them as he pushed in and out of her, grinding his hips against her, rubbing against that sensitive spot as he slid in and out, building them both towards a climax.

“Rowan,” Aelin murmured, drawing his eyes to her own.

Then Aelin arched her neck, a silent invitation, a promise.

Rowan lowered his mouth to hers and carefully, with the precision of the Fae Prince he was, bit her neck, claiming her as his own. Aelin moaned at the feel of his elongated canines piercing the sensitive skin of her flesh, the fire in her core building again as Rowan ground into her.

“You’re mine, Fireheart,” Rowan growled as he pulled away, something unreadable in his eyes as he regarded the twin spots of blood on her neck, just above the cut at the base of her throat.

Rowan licked the blood welling at the site of the bite, and Aelin cried out as release found her again, taking Rowan along with her as he roared. He bent his head to her neck, shuddering as the last waves of pleasure found their way through his body.

When at last they were both spent, Rowan gathered Aelin in his arms, murmuring into her hair as they clung to one another, a tangled mess of limbs and sheets.

“I claim you, Rowan,” Aelin whispered into Rowan’s chest. Rowan kissed her hair, and Aelin could feel his smile against her skin.

“And I claim you, Fireheart.”


End file.
